


the pain was great, but he did not scream.

by Our_Hearts_Are_Compatible



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Our_Hearts_Are_Compatible/pseuds/Our_Hearts_Are_Compatible
Summary: Soulmates destined to meet were often destined to die together, as well.  Will just wished that it had happened at a more peaceful and opportune time.  Too much rode on them delivering that slip of paper for it to happen now.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69





	the pain was great, but he did not scream.

**Author's Note:**

> This particular Soulmate AU causes each member of the pair to experience the same pain and injuries as the other, just moments after. I created this based off of a text post I made on tumblr yesterday, using it as a prompt for the dialogue between the pair, and because the idea was too good to pass up! I hope you guys enjoy!! There's a chance I'll write some more for this particular AU, yet. I have a few ideas floating around in my head.

“Will? I feel like I’m going to die,” Tom said, barely aloud and somehow baffled that he was hurt in the first place. It was as if his mind had...restarted itself again, scared of what would come next; and his voice was so soft. Too soft. Will knew he would be gone any moment now. 

He knew Tom wouldn’t remember that Will was going to follow soon after, their lives intrinsically linked together. Soon after Tom had been stabbed, the pain and the wound and the blood: they all found their way to Will’s body as well, the pain welling up in him terribly, blood soaking through his tunic and sticking the fabric to the inside of the wound; he tasted his own blood in his mouth and he wondered if Tom was drowning similarly. 

Still, his focus was on Tom.

Tom didn’t need to see or hear his pain. Because  Will didn’t want to worry him. He never did. 

So cryptically, he replied with a gentle, “we all die, Tom.”. 

Not that any of it mattered now. The when or the where. They were both on their merry way out from the world.  _ No one will get to your brother _ , he thought.  _ I’m so sorry. _ And he was. He wished that he and Tom were never meant to be, that he could have had his feelings from a distance. That he didn’t have to die there with him so at least he could make it to the 2nd Devon and Lieutenant Blake. One of them should have.

But love never was quite fair.

Will honestly thought Tom had slipped away, left him to die alone, but he looked down and Tom was smiling up at him. “No, love. I meant soon.”

He tensed at that, only his face softening to show Tom he was listening. He stroked slow circles on Tom’s hand, his motor functions starting to cease as well, digits feeling clunky and unattached from the rest of himself. He kept moving because he was frightened. He didn’t want to die. Not then, or there, because of some German’s knife stuck into someone else’s body. 

_ His soulmate’s body. _

“So did I,” he said quietly, hearing Tom mumble something of an ‘oh’. Will found himself scooting out from under Tom and over, so he could lay with him. His movement slowed and the world blurred around him, but he needed to see him  _ just one last time _ . He made himself as comfortable as he could, wincing at the pain from his identical stab wound, but when he turned his head to stare over at Tom, to tell him he loved him...he was instead met with glossy eyes and blue lips, carefully set in a saccharine smile. 

Not even a chance to say goodbye.

The pain was great, but Will did not scream. He threw his arm over top of Tom and grimaced for his love and all the lives that would be lost because of them. How the war might never end if the Germans got their way the next morning. 

“I’m sorry that I loved you,” he croaked out, words not quite louder than a whisper. His voice was failing him. 

A fit of coughs racked his body and he let his eyes wander over Tom’s face, his soft features looking almost childlike in their ever resting state. He quietly wondered how someone so... _ dead _ could look so happy and at peace. His eyes drifted down to Tom’s breast pocket and suddenly remembering what they had set out to do such a short time ago, dug the letter out from it. 

Maybe someone would come along soon. Find them...their mission. 

Maybe someone could do what they _couldn’t_. 

Will’s shaky hand laid it out across Tom’s chest, Royal Army seal faced up. Then he reached into his own fatigues and grasped at his tobacco tin. He carefully opened it with a soft  _ click _ and stared at his sisters, smiling happily. Then his mother, beautiful as ever. Then to their solemn message. 

“Come back to us. x” He thought a moment: he was so proud of them. So proud for their surviving so long without him. They could survive a while longer yet. He'd be home before they knew it. 

His breaths would have come ragged with grief, and rife with pain if breathing hadn’t become such a terrible bother. He decided to stop,  _ just _ to conserve some much needed energy. Likewise, tears would have flooded from his eyes were they not closing from too much exertion. He reached out to shut Tom’s, too. 

They would just sleep for a short while; an hour at the very most. Then they’d get up to go again. They would save the Lieutenant and another 1600 nameless men. 

_ They would _ . 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at william-schofield on tumblr!! <3


End file.
